


We're Here For You

by Pippinpaddleopsicopolis (Barnable)



Series: Together, We Are An Ocean [5]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Day Five: 'Don't Tell Dad', Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insecure Sokka (Avatar), POV Katara, Post-Canon, Scars, Sibling Love, Sokka (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Water Siblings Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26472226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barnable/pseuds/Pippinpaddleopsicopolis
Summary: After unintentionally stumbling upon one of the scariest sights of her life, Katara tries to get her brother to open up.
Relationships: Katara & Sokka (Avatar)
Series: Together, We Are An Ocean [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933663
Comments: 12
Kudos: 130





	We're Here For You

“Don't tell Dad.”

Katara froze the second she walked into the room, her eyes frozen on her brother. He was sat even stiller than her, his blue eyes wide with fear and his hands gripping onto the wrappings in his hands. They weren't around his arms. They were just draped over his palms, the fabric trailing loose against the ground near his knees. They weren't around his arms and that was the only reason Katara was able to see what she did.

“Are you okay?” was the question that came out of her mouth first, her gaze shifting between Sokka's forearms and his eyes. He did nothing but nod, and the gesture was far from sincere. Katara took a step closer, gently kneeling beside her brother. “Sokka, it's okay. You can talk to me.”

“Promise me you're not going to tell Dad.” Sokka's tone was urgent, his knuckles turning white and his voice shaking with every word. “He can't know. If he finds out, he's going to be so disappointed in me, he— he'll never trust me again.”

“No. No, that's not true. Come here.”

Though she normally wouldn't have given him a choice, Katara was gentle as she went in for the hug that day, only settling her arms around his shoulders when she was sure that he was comfortable with the gesture. Sokka barely reacted, only resting his hands around her waist awkwardly as his entire body shook beneath her grasp. Neither of them said a word, giving Katara too much time to think about what she saw.

It wasn't until her eyes landed up on the rows of scars on Sokka's wrists that she realized she couldn't remember the last time she saw him without his wrappings. He always wore them, and he only took them off when no one was around. That was probably what he was doing when she'd walked in, trying to switch them out without anyone noticing. But she did. She saw it, and now she had to face the consequences of that.

“He would not be disappointed in you, Sokka.” Katara didn't pull away, only holding on tighter when she felt Sokka's tears soaking into the shoulder of her shirt. “You know he loves us more than anything else in the world and if you told him, he would only want to help.”

“No, I can't— I can't let him find out.” Sokka's voice cracked on each word, each syllable, and it was almost painful to listen to. Her brother, her strong, confident, _amazing_ brother, shattered right in front of her eyes. “He wanted me to help him run the tribe and if he finds out about this, he's not going to let me do it anymore. _I_ wouldn't even let me do it anymore.”

“You know he would never do that to you. The only reason he would ever want you to step back would be to make sure you're okay. How long has this been going on for? I mean, are you— are you okay? Do you want to talk about anything?”

“I'm fine, it's nothing. It doesn't even matter, it's not—”

“ _Sokka_.”

He pulled away from her suddenly, dragging his knees into his chest as he slid back against the wall. Katara wanted to reach back out to him, to help, to try and do _something_ for the awful lines on his arms, but she resisted the urge. She wasn't going to do anything unless her brother asked her to first. She'd already invaded his privacy enough; there was no reason to be making it even harder on him.

Still, it was almost impossible to sit there and watch as Sokka tried to hide his arms behind his legs, his gaze stuck on the floor while he chewed on his bottom lip. Katara slid closer but didn't move her hands. She just did her best to let her brother know that she was there for him, whenever he was ready to talk. Whenever he was ready to tell her why his arms were laced in pink and white lines.

“I wasn't doing it,” he whispered, his eyes looking up for little more than a second. “When you came in, I wasn't doing it.”

“Were you thinking about it?” Sokka didn't answer, leaving Katara in a hard place. She didn't know what she was supposed to say, how to comfort him when he didn't want to open up in the first place. “Sokka, it's okay. I just want to help.”

“I don't want you to have to help me, though. I'm fine. I haven't— it's been weeks since I've done it now. I'm fine.”

“But if you were fine, you never would have done it in the first place. Please, Sokka, just talk to me. Tell me what happened.”

“I messed up.” With just three words, every negative emotion seemed to fall out of his mouth. He was sad, disappointed, and from the way he glared at his knees, even angry at himself. “Dad asked me to talk to the men and I couldn't do it. I froze. Everyone was staring at me and Dad said it was fine, but it wasn't. I failed. It was the stupidest little thing and I couldn't even do it.”

That wasn't true. For a lot of people, talking in front of a crowd was nothing, but Sokka wasn't one of those people. He could charm anyone face-to-face but when met with a group, he cracked. Katara had known that for ages. Once there were more than half a dozen people listening to her brother speak, he lost the ability to function the way he was meant to. It wasn't fair for him to judge himself so harshly on that.

“It's okay.” Finally, Katara reached out again, gripping onto Sokka's right hand. Though he didn't pull away, he didn't look up either, leaving his sister to keep the silence from taking over. “I know you're scared, but I think you should talk to Dad about this. He can help you. We both can.”

“No.” Sokka shook his head, sniffing as he slid his hand away from Katara. He wrapped it around his knees, giving Katara a full view of the scars that scattered his forearms. “I don't want him to know, Katara. He won't understand, he— I'm supposed to be strong. I'm supposed to protect everyone, and I can't even—”

It was unclear whether he was planning to insult himself on his ability to cope or his ability to give speeches, but either way, Katara didn't want to hear it. Against her common sense, she slid forward again, throwing her arms around her brother. He didn't move an inch, his own arms still wrapped around his legs and his chin turned away, but it didn't matter. He needed the comfort because if he didn't, he would have pulled them apart.

Only then, when Katara's arms were around him and he was leaning into her shoulder did she realize how badly he was trembling. He was honest, at least; nothing on his arms seemed to be fresh or open, just scarred. There were _so many scars_. Some of them were from battles and she knew that, but it was too easy to tell which were from an opponent and which were the result of her brother's own hands.

“I'm sorry,” mumbled Sokka, not shifting away from his sister. “You weren't supposed to find out like this.”

“How was I supposed to find out?” asked Katara gently.

Though he hesitated, his answer wasn't surprising in the least. “You weren't.”

Katara didn't respond right away, only squeezing his shoulders a little tighter. She always knew that Sokka struggled with his self-confidence, that he worried he wasn't good enough for his family or their tribe, but she had no idea how bad it was. She had no idea that her brother was struggling like that and to find out—to see him in such a raw state, forced to open up before he was remotely ready— _hurt_. It hurt more than she could begin to explain.

“You know how much we all care about you, Sokka.” She nearly pulled away but elected to stay in her place when she realized Sokka's shaking was beginning to cease. “Dad and I especially, we— we would do anything for you, and you know our friends would too. Aang, Suki, even Toph and Zuko; we just want to help. All of us want to help but we can't do that if you don't tell us when something is wrong.”

“But it's so _stupid_.” Katara wanted to tell him that it wasn't, that the only stupid thing was his brain trying to convince him he wasn't worth their time, but she held her tongue. He needed a chance to talk, to explain what he was feeling. “Other people just get up and they move on but these things, they _nag_ me. It just sticks around in my head when I'm trying to sleep or work and all I can think about is how much of a fucking failure I am.”

The last words came out half broken by sobs and half spat with anger at himself. Finally, he moved one of his hands, but only to brush off the left side of his face and push back the stray hairs that escaped from his wolftail. He clung to the ends of his hair, his knuckles turning white, and only moved when Katara reached up to grip onto his hand instead. Again, he seemed hesitant to accept the motion, but ultimately did so without comment.

“That is _not_ stupid.” At that point, her own voice was cracking, and it took everything in her power to keep herself from losing it. She had to stay strong for her brother. She had to be there for him like he'd always been there for her. “Sokka, listen to me. I know what it's like, okay? I've had so many of the bad thoughts myself, but you have to learn to stop listening to them. They're not telling you the truth.”

Sokka opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut again and hesitated for several seconds before he finished. “You know how amazing you are, Katara.”

“No, I don't. I don't know, and that's why it means so much when someone says those things to me. I blame myself for so many things, Sokka. Mom dying, people getting hurt, but you help me. You help me see that it's okay. That everything I _think_ is true isn't. Please let me do that for you. You're not a failure just because you couldn't give a speech and you are _damn_ well strong enough for whatever you have to work through. Just talk to me, okay? Please don’t bottle this up anymore.”

“I don't know if I can stop.” He lifted his gaze for just a moment, his eyes flickering past his sister’s. “I don't _want_ to listen to them, Katara. I don't— I don't _want_ to hurt, it just… I don't know how to convince myself not to do it anymore. I don't know if I can.”

“So, talk to me.” At that point, Katara's tone was more pleading than anything else, but she didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to help her brother when he was stuck in one of the worst places of his life. “Please, Sokka. I know it can't be easy to just stop but if you ever feel like you— if you ever feel the urge to do _that_ , then just come and find me, okay? I won't tell Dad until you're ready but please don't do this anymore. Don’t hide things from us. We love you so, _so_ much. I just— I need you to be okay.”

Sokka didn't answer. He swallowed hard, shifting out of Katara's grasp. The silence lasted too long and at first, Katara thought that her brother wasn't going to say anything at all. But then, slowly, he lifted his head. He blinked the tears from his eyes, brushing away the one that slid down his cheek, and nodded as he turned to look at her, biting down on the edge of his lip.

“Okay.” His voice was quiet but more genuine than she ever could've hoped for. “I want— I want to try. I want to get better, but I can't— what if I can't do it? What if I'm not strong enough and I crack, and I make things even worse and—?”

“That's not going to happen.” Katara reached out for his hand again, careful to avoid his scars when she brushed past his hand to his fingers. “You are _so_ strong, Sokka, and even if something happens, we're here for you. Me, Dad, Gran Gran— we're here for you and we're going to help you. I promise.”

Again, her brother said nothing, but the way he squeezed her hand expressed everything she needed to know.


End file.
